


Speed Demon

by Katrika



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Brainbent, Ficlet, Gen, Humanized, Loss of Identity, Mental Breakdown, Mental Illness, Reckless Driving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-13
Updated: 2011-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-27 07:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katrika/pseuds/Katrika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vriska knows if she can just go fast enough, she'll outrun all those pesky nagging doubts. She just has to go faster, and faster, and faster...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speed Demon

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to wait until this went up on the Brainbent tumblr to post, but then I realized I'd probably forget. Enjoy!

Vriska liked going fast.

When she went fast enough, nothing existed but herself. The entirety of the universe narrowed to a point just big enough for her and her bike, and she wanted to laugh herself sick.

At first, she rode at night, losing herself in the road and the wind without any other vehicles to snap herself out of her trance. She liked to daydream during those rides, imagining that every household she soared past woke up with a jolt at the sound of her engine, and every window contained faces looking out in disdain and confusion. Looking out at her, at the universe, at everything they would never be or hurt or catch.

Eventually, though, it wasn’t enough anymore. The roads were too empty, the houses too dark. Deep in her heart, Vriska knew nobody was paying attention anymore. There wasn’t anyone looking at her. She was all alone.

Vriska hated being alone.

When nobody was looking, the doubts crept in, and she had to go faster and faster just to outrun them. Night wasn’t enough, night was too quiet, she had to start riding in the day, and the danger all around her just made it better and sweeter than ever before. She was healed. She was going to be just fine after all.

But as she sped up, the doubts matched her pace, and one day they hit her all at once, like a bullet to her gut. She didn’t like the motorcycle. She didn’t like going fast, or the damn noise it made, or speeding across the road. She didn’t like being alone in the universe.

She was scared.

But she wasn’t scared, was she? ‘She’ couldn’t be scared because dead people didn’t feel fear, and she suddenly knew all the way into her bones that that’s what she was, the dead body of a girl who was once named Vriska. Empty. Broken. Nonexistant.

Her shaking hands gripped the handlebars tighter and tighter. When had it happened? She tried to think back, but she could only remember disjointed, unrelated things. A Santa Claus coloring sheet. A plate full of cookies. Was there a real person named Vriska Serket in her body back then? She didn’t know. It suddenly seemed very, very urgent for her to know.

There was the faint but unmistakable squeal of tires, which she shoved it aside as unimportant. There were much more pressing things to concentrate on. Images flashed in front of her mind’s-eye, a flag, a bible, a broken plea, a fist, slut slut slut [redlight] slut…

 _Wait. What?_

The car hit, and Vriska flew.


End file.
